Winter Sports: Ice Ice Baby

Hockey Is Not Just For Kids And Canadians

November 19, 2008

As a boy, my passions were UFOs, mythical monsters and Star Wars. In high school, I worked on the stage crew and played Dungeons & Dragons. My college work-study job was movie projectionist, and I hung out with wanna-be filmmakers and played drinking games based on David Lynch movies. Today, solidly middle-aged, I get as excited as my young sons do about movies like The Lord of the Rings, The Dark Knight and Watchmen (the trailer gave me chills).

Say it loud, I'm geek and I'm proud. So if anyone had told me a few years ago that in my late 30s my life would begin to revolve around ice hockey - and not just watching, but playing - I would have used some obscure sci-fi movie quote to mock the prediction: "Much bullshit I sense in you," something like that.

And yet here I am, driving to rinks four, five, sometimes six days out of seven, between my kids' games and practices and my own. The hobby has become so consuming that it's tempered my criticisms of born-again types who can't shut up about the "Good News." I can get like that too. Lord Stanley is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall want.

And that's why I write about it - not to brag (my teammates can confirm, aside from punctuality, I have nothing to brag about), but to assure anyone who's ever thought about trying the sport that if a skinny geek like me can learn to play, anyone can.

The biggest obstacles to starting are the misconceptions like "I didn't learn to skate as a kid, so I couldn't start now."

Right, and you'll never play guitar like Eric Clapton, so why bother with lessons? True, most college and pro players started skating around the time they learned to walk, but don't worry, there won't be any scouts in the stands where you'll be playing.

I roller-skated as a kid and had inline skated a few times as an adult, but I had only skated on ice a couple of times before beginning lessons five years ago. (Most municipal rinks offer adults-only classes). At times it sucked; the process can be painful - figuratively and literally. I fell a lot, sometimes hard. To this day there are spots on my knees and elbows that, when pressed against a hard surface, remind me with a jolt of pain of the times I rammed them into the ice. Only later did it occur to me I could have borrowed or bought knee and elbow pads even though I wasn't ready to play. Live and learn.

Your progress will depend on how much you practice. Lessons alone won't be enough; you'll need to get reps whenever you can, even if it's at public sessions where you'll be surrounded by kids whose fearlessness makes you jealous. Deal with it. If it were easy, everyone would do it.

When you can stop, turn, skate backward a little and generally stay on your feet, you can start looking around for adult beginner hockey clinics. These are usually offered in the summer (ArenaMaps.com can help you find phone numbers for rinks in your area), but some women-only programs have sessions for newbies during the regular season. Visit the Northeast Ohio Women's Hockey Association website, eteamz.com/nowho, for info.

Hockey North America is a national program with a Cleveland branch that offers a beginner school, no experience necessary. Details are available at hna.com.

Another common excuse: "It's too expensive."

Hockey will set you back more than softball or soccer. But smart shopping can make a huge difference. You can find surprisingly good deals on used gear at Play It Again Sports stores (multiple locations,

In my admittedly limited experience, adult-league fees generally run $250-$400 for a season of 20 or so games. But look at it this way: That's less than $20 per game on average and an hour of ice time can cost 10 times that.

Another common excuse: "I'll get hurt."

Unlikely, though it depends on what you mean by "hurt."

Most adult leagues that take beginners do not allow body checking. Inadvertent (and semi-inadvertent) collisions do occur, but hockey gear is surprisingly good at absorbing impacts. I'm a skinny guy, and I've bounced off players who could easily bench more than I weigh and have gotten up under my own power every time.

Still, as I write this, my left hand is sore from using it to knock down a slapshot (not the smartest thing I've ever tried), and I'm working on a nice bruise from falling backward and crashing down on what I think is a pelvic bone. Some mornings when the alarm goes off six or so hours after a game has ended, everything seems to creak or hurt, and I'd give a limb to stay in bed. But that's what coffee and Advil are for.

I don't know how long this love affair will last, especially now that my wife has started playing too. "Hockey is where we live," legendary coach Fred Shero once said. And even gangly, unathletic nerds are welcome. - Frank Lewis

flewis@clevescene.com

LET IT SLIDE

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